Sunday, 14 December 2008
Days Fourteen & Fifteen - 9th and 10th December
After the Sex and the City marathon, I decide for my own self esteem and to quieten those that think the ban will change my sexuality, I decide to do something much more masculine. I try lifting weights, but I get depressed when I struggle to lift 30kilos and my arms hurt like hell. I decide to sooth the pain by drinking six cans of stout, which makes me feel bloated and gives me a massive hamgover the next day. I decide that although I like football and I am not afeminate, I am most certainly not a macho man. I find my happy medium by watching the Sopranos season one boxset.
Days Twelve & Thirteen - 8th and 9th December
In this period I try to substitute watching football by watching something that is the complete opposite of the sport. After several hours of thinking, I come up with the ultimate anti-football programme- Sex and the City. Noone that watches Sex and the City like football! I decide that to achieve the maximum viewing pleasure, I am going to watch SatC exactly the same way as I would watch a match. With the average episode of the show lasting thirty minutes I plan I'll need to watch three of them to make up the time I'd spend watching footy.
The 'game' starts with a monologue from Carrie. Its not exactly a thrilling start, but I can draw similarities between it and the first ten minutes of an SPL game. 25 minutes in, Samantha is the first to score (away from home with a fireman). Carrie goes close with a politician but at half time the Sex and the City side are only 1-0 up. I try having a Martini and bagel at half time to supplement the regular pie and bovril. Overall the taste is good, but it would not warm you up at half time at a match at Firhill.
Early into the second half, Carrie finally puts away one of her chances against the politician and puts the girls two up. Samantha adds a quick third to the lead (this time with a short man). Ten minutes from time and the legal Samantha completes her hattrick, getting the better of a masseuse. Full time 4-0 and a resounding win for the SatC girls.
Overall, I have to admit the Sex and the City experience wasn't as bad as I first feared. This leaves me to question whether or not this experience has made me less masculine. I decide not to contemplate this issue and instead have another Martini.
For fun, I decide to compare SatC characters to footballers.
Carrie Bradshaw is David Beckham
A classy ball player who looks good on and off the pitch. Bradshaw is the leader of the Sex and the City side and can inspire her teammates with moments of inspiration. Not a consistent scorer, but comes through with spectacular goals rather than tap ins. Loves fashion labels and probably wears similar types of underwear to Becks!
Samantha Jones is Ruud van Nistelrooy
Not pretty but still scores every week. Samantha can score all sorts of goals, and is always focused on her next target. Not always popular with fans or teammates, but Samantha always delivers. Prolific and often willing to go to extents that others aren't in order to secure the win.
Charlotte York is Juan Roman Riquelme
Dainty Charlotte is by far the classiest member of the SatC side. Always concentrated on what she wants, Charlotte always make clear what she wants from her teammates. Has made wrong moves in the past, but likely to be remembered fondly by many.
Miranda Hobbes is Paul Scholes
A fiery ginger who often flies into the tackle. Miranda is quieter than some of her teammates, but has intelligence on her side. Never lets the side down. Age may be catching up with her but still a regular in the side.
The 'game' starts with a monologue from Carrie. Its not exactly a thrilling start, but I can draw similarities between it and the first ten minutes of an SPL game. 25 minutes in, Samantha is the first to score (away from home with a fireman). Carrie goes close with a politician but at half time the Sex and the City side are only 1-0 up. I try having a Martini and bagel at half time to supplement the regular pie and bovril. Overall the taste is good, but it would not warm you up at half time at a match at Firhill.
Early into the second half, Carrie finally puts away one of her chances against the politician and puts the girls two up. Samantha adds a quick third to the lead (this time with a short man). Ten minutes from time and the legal Samantha completes her hattrick, getting the better of a masseuse. Full time 4-0 and a resounding win for the SatC girls.
Overall, I have to admit the Sex and the City experience wasn't as bad as I first feared. This leaves me to question whether or not this experience has made me less masculine. I decide not to contemplate this issue and instead have another Martini.
For fun, I decide to compare SatC characters to footballers.
Carrie Bradshaw is David Beckham
A classy ball player who looks good on and off the pitch. Bradshaw is the leader of the Sex and the City side and can inspire her teammates with moments of inspiration. Not a consistent scorer, but comes through with spectacular goals rather than tap ins. Loves fashion labels and probably wears similar types of underwear to Becks!
Samantha Jones is Ruud van Nistelrooy
Not pretty but still scores every week. Samantha can score all sorts of goals, and is always focused on her next target. Not always popular with fans or teammates, but Samantha always delivers. Prolific and often willing to go to extents that others aren't in order to secure the win.
Charlotte York is Juan Roman Riquelme
Dainty Charlotte is by far the classiest member of the SatC side. Always concentrated on what she wants, Charlotte always make clear what she wants from her teammates. Has made wrong moves in the past, but likely to be remembered fondly by many.
Miranda Hobbes is Paul Scholes
A fiery ginger who often flies into the tackle. Miranda is quieter than some of her teammates, but has intelligence on her side. Never lets the side down. Age may be catching up with her but still a regular in the side.
Tuesday, 9 December 2008
Days Eleven and Twelve - 6th and 7th December
I decide to go for a different technique to tackle Super Sunday this weekend. Avoidance of this will involve complete restructuring of the day. So I decide to turn my day upside down. Therefore I will began the day with what I would normally do just before I go to bed and work backwards as the day progresses.
I start the day with a few beers and watching a movie in bed. I then have a curry like I would normally have for dinner and by 11am I am feeling pretty sick. I then go into Uni and do a bit of a catch up work. Even though I am not full, I have lunch while in town and then attempt to go for my morning run at 6pm. This fails due to the amount I have eaten. I settle down to the morning papers, eat some cereal and settle down to bed.
Although I did successfully avoid seeing any football on this day, turning the day upside makes me feel terrible. I even get a kind of jet lag-esque feeling the next day.
I start the day with a few beers and watching a movie in bed. I then have a curry like I would normally have for dinner and by 11am I am feeling pretty sick. I then go into Uni and do a bit of a catch up work. Even though I am not full, I have lunch while in town and then attempt to go for my morning run at 6pm. This fails due to the amount I have eaten. I settle down to the morning papers, eat some cereal and settle down to bed.
Although I did successfully avoid seeing any football on this day, turning the day upside makes me feel terrible. I even get a kind of jet lag-esque feeling the next day.
Day Ten - 5th December
Today was a bizarre day, and I'm now convinced the footballing gods are out to get me. Every since I started the ban I have been seeing extraordinary amounts of footballers in day to day life situations. In the last week, I have sat beside Derek McInnes (St Johnstone manager & ex-Rangers midfielder) in a pub, seen Stephen Pearson (Derby & Scotland midfielder) in a shopping centre and queued behind Glenn Loovens (Celtic defender) in the supermarket. But today topped it all when Rangers' Portuguese playmaker Pedro Mendes approached me and asked for directions to a lawyers office. I pretended I had no idea who he was and told him I didn't know where the office was. in truth I avoided listening to him. It's a conspiracy, I'm sure of it.
Saturday, 6 December 2008
Days Eight & Nine - 3rd and 4th December
Again, due to the amount of work I had on these two days were generally uneventful. I did read on a newspaper stand that Roy Keane had been sacked from Sunderland, and I wonder who they will get to replace him. I reckon candidates must include Avram Grant, Allardyce and maybe somebody weird like Rijkaard. Anyhoo, my musings are getting me close to breaking the ban.
In the pub on Wednesday night, I almost glance at the screen when breaking news appears on a Sky Sports News Update. This is greeted with a chorus of 'Don't Look!' from two of my friends who are there. Hence, I manage to abstain from football although I am no wiser to learning who is the next Sunderland manager. I go home and attempt house gymnastics (www.housegymnastics.com) which is fun but it doesn't really relax me so I then try some Tai Chi. Keano's probably meditating as I speak.
In the pub on Wednesday night, I almost glance at the screen when breaking news appears on a Sky Sports News Update. This is greeted with a chorus of 'Don't Look!' from two of my friends who are there. Hence, I manage to abstain from football although I am no wiser to learning who is the next Sunderland manager. I go home and attempt house gymnastics (www.housegymnastics.com) which is fun but it doesn't really relax me so I then try some Tai Chi. Keano's probably meditating as I speak.
Thursday, 4 December 2008
Days Six & Seven - 1st and 2nd December 2008
NOTE: Due to the sheer workload I have on for the next week or so, blogs might be less regular.
One week down, six more to go. I awake on the Monday feeling more confident than in previous days. I decide that I am going to learn a minority language. My choice is Catalan, it might be useful at the Nou Camp once my ban ends. Due to the amount of work I have on, these days are relatively stress free in relation to football. I do find out my first result since I started when someone inadvertently mentions in a text that Burnley beat Arsenal in the League Cup.
Cup upsets are one of the reasons I love football so much. I think of when Chesterfield played Middlesbrough and when Roy Essandoh scored for Wycombe in the FA Cup. For the first time I feel like I am missing out on something. By the end of this ban, the Scottish and FA Cup third rounds will be over and I will have potentially missed the great shocks of the season. I bury my head in a Catalan language book and convince myself that there will be no upsets.
One week down, six more to go. I awake on the Monday feeling more confident than in previous days. I decide that I am going to learn a minority language. My choice is Catalan, it might be useful at the Nou Camp once my ban ends. Due to the amount of work I have on, these days are relatively stress free in relation to football. I do find out my first result since I started when someone inadvertently mentions in a text that Burnley beat Arsenal in the League Cup.
Cup upsets are one of the reasons I love football so much. I think of when Chesterfield played Middlesbrough and when Roy Essandoh scored for Wycombe in the FA Cup. For the first time I feel like I am missing out on something. By the end of this ban, the Scottish and FA Cup third rounds will be over and I will have potentially missed the great shocks of the season. I bury my head in a Catalan language book and convince myself that there will be no upsets.
Tuesday, 2 December 2008
Day Five - 30th November 2008
Wake up on what is normally 'Super Sunday'. Several plans I have to get involved in exciting activities fall through. One of my suggestions for today was 'Trannyoke' (Karaoke for Transvestites) but I can't muster up the confidence to go to something extreme this early on in the experiment. I spend the afternoon searching for anything to do. I text one of my friends saying I'm bored, and get the reply "It's your own f**king fault!" I get slightly depressed that football seems to play such a pivotal role in my social life. My sour mood is worsened by the fact that I know Arsenal - Chelsea is on at 4pm.
I think about how my relationship with football started, how did we manage to get here? How did something so beautiful cause me so much pain? My love affair with football began in the mid nineties. My earliest footballing memories are of Scotland trouncing San Marino, Pierre van Hoojidonk scoring the winning goal in the Scottish Cup Final, going to Firhill to watch Partick Thistle and my little cousin falling asleep for the entirety of a 0-0 Queens Park versus Albion Rovers thriller. Good times, but has this nostalgia clouded my realistic expectations of how good football can be?
I resist the urge to give in to my romantic urges, and instead fully commit myself to thinking about more ambitious schemes to fill the next forty five days...
I think about how my relationship with football started, how did we manage to get here? How did something so beautiful cause me so much pain? My love affair with football began in the mid nineties. My earliest footballing memories are of Scotland trouncing San Marino, Pierre van Hoojidonk scoring the winning goal in the Scottish Cup Final, going to Firhill to watch Partick Thistle and my little cousin falling asleep for the entirety of a 0-0 Queens Park versus Albion Rovers thriller. Good times, but has this nostalgia clouded my realistic expectations of how good football can be?
I resist the urge to give in to my romantic urges, and instead fully commit myself to thinking about more ambitious schemes to fill the next forty five days...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
